stepping back into the west
chills reverberate up and down my spine
chiseling open obsolescent padlocks
dangling with dust
on ancient treasure chests

pallid colors in the attic release
a blossoming familiarity
faint hints of retrospections float on faded paper
granting me access to roads
where no map is needed

as i peruse the streets
my heart flows coalescing with the vicinity
caressing each detail i transform to fluid
and fuse with the past
through fresh strokes of watercolored memories

recollections flash before my eyes
revealing antiquated stories
though thought forgotten
an etched history endeavors to define me
renewing itself as i turn each corner

i shudder at some remembrances while encompassing others
through synchronicity realization hits
that I am all of it
yet none of it
at the same time

familiar faces paint meaning onto me
no longer do they know me
yet they airbrush vestiges of yesteryear
and coat me with connotations
i allow them to think i am whatever they imagine

i morph into their canvas temporarily
then break free in multi-dimensionality
they don't hear me with a new listening
no longer invested in their projections
once sharp triggers now appear in soft focus

an auspicious mist lies around the edges
of my former life
it is as if i never left
yet traces of the east lie sandpapered in me
a maturation commingles with my former self

flushing out on my skin
tethering newfound emotions
a gentle gratitude for home territory
nestles softly
inward

i listen to the clicks
of my scuffed cowboy boots
on acquainted yet somehow distant sidewalks
the echoes layering multiple impressions
glimmering with the utter beauty of this terrain

as I wander through the majestic rocky mountains
drinking in the quaking aspen's crimson edges
interfacing the evergreens
hushed whispers of autumn loftily rest
juxtaposed neatly against futures waiting to unfurl in the wind

an amalgamation of intimate sights and scents
dance in open wounds
dazzling
homesickness cured
a wholeness returned

as winter's crystal dawn blooms
i realize the depth of my growth
for in leaving here and returning
i cherish the west
my home

©2016 janetaylor

I want to swim up by your side
Between the sheets, through the tide

Warm my toes and take me under
Through depths and air bubbles we plunder

Your skin has a flavor, but do me a favor

Avoid all the retrospections
Focus on simple satisfactions

Your nose crinkles when you stifle a yawn
The longest hour is right before the dawn

take me by the hand
tour me 'round, sights unseen
take me to the twisted annals of your hometown
show me the back doors
and best tables of all your favorite places
take me by the hand and show me
show me
show me what it means
to walk the streets of your city
to look outside your window
and pray
destroy my misconceptions
and ***** your retrospections
build a city of you in me

everything is warm and alive at this time of night.
2 am, while the entirety of the town is resting
my mind is creating stories and projecting memories.

the retrospections are deep and comforting,
offering more to me than sleep ever could.
I see them in shades and hues of red
keeping me warm in a way my bed cannot.

maybe this is better than sleep

maybe I was just meant to think
instead of dream.

unfurling smithereens
of retrospections
stitched to mend
fragmented derelict
sails.